


Save me

by jasmineisland



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-01
Updated: 2013-06-01
Packaged: 2017-12-13 15:34:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 7
Words: 20,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/825897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jasmineisland/pseuds/jasmineisland
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My first SPN Story- The voice mail from an unknown number had not been a priority for Dean, so it had been there for several hours. The instant Dean heard the familiar voice he stopped and sat down heavily. "Dean?.... It's Sam. I need some help..... I'm in jail."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Save me  
Characters: Sam Dean John OC  
Pairing: none

 

The voice mail from an unknown number had not been a priority for Dean, so it had been there for several hours. The instant Dean heard the familiar voice he stopped and sat down heavily.  
"Dean?.... It's Sam. I need some help..... I'm in jail."

Possible trigger- highlight to read  non-graphic underage non/con object insertion 

 

 

 

Exiting the bathroom, Dean ran the towel over his head one  more time before reaching for his phone. The hunt was not going as well and he and John had thought it would. A simple salt and burn of a young widow turned into a hunt for the poltergeist husband who had been murdered in the woods. The remains had been scattered by animals, so other methods were going to be needed. The voice mail from an unknown number had not been a priority for Dean, so it had been there for several hours. The instant Dean heard the familiar voice he stopped and sat down heavily.   
"Dean?.... It's Sam. I need some help..... I'm in jail."  
  
************************************************************ 

Watching John pour over the various notes in the truck, Dean tried to figure out a way to tell  him that they had to get back to the current hometown to get Sam out of jail. There was just no way Dean could figure this conversation was going to go well.  
"Dad?" His voice was so quiet and unsure that he had to say it three times before John finally looked up. The sight of his 19 year old looking so apprehensive made his pause.  
"What?"  
"We need to get back to Sammy."  
"He's a big boy, Dean. He'll be fine for a couple more days."  
The dismissal would have been final any other time, but Dean stepped closer. "He called me."  
"What's wrong?" John knew Sam wouldn't call unless there was no way he could get out of whatever trouble had come up on his own.  
A few more seconds passed. "He.... he got arrested."  
"He WHAT?" John's voice rose and Dean knew it was going to be a long drive back to the small town they was currently their temporary home. "What the fuck do you mean he got arrested?"  
"I don't know, Dad. He left a voice mail that he was in jail and he needed help."  
Throwing the small notebook across the room, John got to his feet. "God damnit, I've told both of you how many times to avoid attention? Next time he doesn't get out of a hunt. I don't give a damn what his excuses are. He goes with us."  
While John's tirade continued, Dean was busy searching his mind for possibilities for what Sammy could have done to be arrested. He mentally counted how much money they'd left him. They'd only planned on being gone for three or four days and it had been five, but he shouldn't have run out of money yet. So shoplifting probably wasn't on the list. Petty theft? No, Sammy was the one in the family that might have dreamed of the latest gadget, but he sure as hell wouldn't lift it- wasn't in his nature.  
Dean's thoughts were interrupted by John reaching for his own phone. There were five messages from unknown callers. These messages were from the Sherriff alerting John to the fact that they had his 15 year old son in jail and were going to keep him until John came to deal with the situation. Clearing the messages, John retrieved his notebook and sat back down. "We're going to have to finish this tonight so we can get home tomorrow."  
"Tonight? Dad, shouldn't we get back now?"  
"Give up a hunt to go bail Sammy out of jail?" John shook his head. "He got himself into this. One more night isn't going to hurt him. We'll go back tomorrow and figure out what needs to be done. Maybe you'll both made damn sure you don't end up back in jail in the future."  
'One more night'. Dean realized that Sam had already spent one night in jail waiting for them to come get him. A pang of guilt ran through him.

********************************************************************************

"Don't look to me like your father's in any hurry to get back here to get you." The Sherriff stood outside Sam's holding cell and shook his head. "You give him this kind of grief on a regular basis?"  
Sam's eyes never left the floor and he didn't reply. His mind had been racing the entire time, trying to replay what happened, but he'd been fighting it. The only thing he wanted to do was forget everything. The lump on the back of his head was throbbing but he didn't think for one second the Sherriff would get him medical attention.  
"I'm talking to you, boy. You get your ass over here and look at me when I'm talking to you."  
At the Sherriff's tone, Sam finally looked up at him and moved carefully, minding the soreness in his body, to the edge of the cell. The room spun briefly and Sam hoped he could fight the nausea. Yep, definitely a concussion. Lovely.  
"Why is it that your father can't be bothered to come get his own son out of jail? You a regular behind bars?"  
"He's busy, and no, sir." Sam kept his answers short and avoided giving any information, just like John had always drilled into his head.  
"You haven't even asked how any of them boys are doing."  
"No, sir." Sam honestly didn't care.  
Before Sam could react, the Sherriff's hand gripped his bloody shirt and yanked him painfully into the bars. "Kevin's my son, you little punk-ass son of a bitch. Doctor says he's going to be in the hospital for another day and he might not play the rest of the season."  
Besides a slight grimace when his face hit the bars, Sam didn't react. As far as Sam was concerned, Kevin and all five of his friends deserved a hell of a lot more then what Sam had given them. But the Sherriff was looking for a reason to hurt him, and Sam wasn't about to give him one. After a couple seconds of not getting a reaction from Sam, the Sherriff reached through the bars with his other hand and gripped the teen's hair painfully. "You got an answer for that?"  
"No, sir."  
"Good. Make it that much easier for the Circuit Judge to charge you with felony assault with a deadly weapon and attempted murder as an adult."  
Sam couldn't think of the actual charges or the possible repercussions at the moment. If he did he'd give the Sherriff the reaction he wanted. All Sam wanted at that moment was Dean. Even  though his brain knew Dean couldn't fix this, his instinct was always to let Dean make things better. As much as it hurt, Sam wasn't entirely surprised that John hadn't appeared to get him. John would never give up on a hunt to come get Sam out of a mess that Sam had gotten himself into. And Dean would never leave his father alone on a hunt when he knew Sam wasn't in any physical danger.  
The Sherriff gave his hair another painful tug, hitting the side of Sam's head against the solid bars. "Guess you're going to be our guest for another night."  
As soon as the grip released, Sam pulled away and  moved back to the cot. His entire body ached and sharp pains drove through him from his run in with the boys the day before. But he bit the side of the inside of his mouth and gripped the side of the cot to avoid showing the Sherriff anything.

***********************************************************************

"That should do it." John finished with the ritual and blew out the candle. Things had been tense, with a cold wind picking up around them and sticks blowing with twigs and rocks at their heads. Dean had been responsible for protecting the candles and drawing the poltergeist's attention until John finished. Shoving everything back into his duffle bag, John turned to his oldest son. "Let's get back to the hotel, clean up and get some sleep before heading back."  
Realizing that John's real intention was to let Sam stew in a cell as punishment, Dean shook his head. "Dad, we can't leave Sam locked up."  
John glared at him. "Fine. Let's just pack up and go see what the fuck your brother did now." On the surface, it would have appeared that John agreed with his son, but Dean knew from the tone that it wasn't going to be that easy.    
On the way back to the hotel, John stopped at an all night mini-mart. Dean wasn't surprised when he came back to the car with a twenty-four pack of beer, a bag of peanut M&M's, three cokes, and a bag of chips. "Cokes are for you. You're so hot and heavy to get back to town you're packing up and you're driving home."  
"Yes, sir." It wasn't as bad as Dean had thought it might be. Packing up the few supplies back at the hotel and driving the seven hours back while John drank his beer wasn't the worst thing his father could throw at him. Not that he cared, the only thing Dean could think of was getting his baby brother out of jail and fixing whatever trouble the kid was in.

*************************************************************************  
Hands held him down, pinning his head painfully against the ground. Voices were yelling and echoing all around him, but Sam couldn't make any of them out. The voices changed to laughing just before Sam's world became nothing but pain.  
A scream ripped itself from the boy's throat and he sat up, swinging his already long arms to defend himself against the attackers in his dream. Another voice joined the sounds in his head and he backed into the wall. Pressing himself into the corner, he continued to scream, desperately trying to escape the images that were following him from sleep.  The shock to his system sent spasms through his body, standing every hair on end until finally, after what felt like hours but was really only ten seconds, everything went mercifully black.  
The Deputy released the trigger on his taser and waited until he was sure Sam was unconscious before entering the cell.  
"Cover me." He turned to the other deputy before approaching Sam. "Crazy bastard put six football players in the hospital."  
"With a hockey stick. Don't look to me like he could do much damage on  his own."  
"Not taking chances." He checked Sam's pulse briefly before retrieving his taser's electrodes. "Just wanted him to shut the fuck up. All that screaming was getting on my nerves."

**************************************************************************

"I'm John Winchester, I got a call that you have my son here?" Despite having drunk the entire suitcase of beer while Dean drove, John looked amazing alert.  
"Well, Mr. Winchester. Nice of you to come by and check on your son."  
Dean almost winced at the sarcastic tone of the Sherriff's voice. To John's credit, he simply turned and met the officer's stare. "I'd like to see my boy now."  
"You're boy is in a shit load of trouble, you know that? Got enough charges to make sure he doesn't get a chance to hurt anyone else for a while."  
"I'll discuss the charges with his lawyer. Right now I'll see Sam." John's tone was one that would have stopped any argument, but the Sherriff was too personally involved in the case to give an inch.  
"There's some paperwork you need to take care of first, Mr. Winchester. If you were so anxious to see your son, I figure you would have shown up before he spent almost two full days with us."  
"You take care of that, Dad. I'll go see Sam." Dean realized that the Sherriff, for some reason, really hated Sam. And since he had the means to make getting Sam released difficult, Dean tried to keep John calm.  
"Fine." John nodded. "You take my son to see his brother and I'll take care of whatever you need me to do."  
Dean was almost shaking from nerves by the time the Deputy led him down a corridor to the holding cells. When he approached Sam's cell, he realized his brother was lying on the cot facing the wall.  
"Sammy?"  
"Dean?" When Sam slowly rolled over, Dean knew something was really wrong.  
"Sam? What the hell happened?" He turned to the Deputy. "Let me in there."  
"No way. Not until the Sherriff gives the order. Your brother isn't as helpless as he looks. Six boys are in the hospital to prove it."  
Dean had no idea what the Deputy meant, but he didn't care. All he cared about was getting close enough to Sam to see what was wrong. "Sammy? Can you come here?"  
Sam made his way to the side of the cell, where Dean gripped his shoulders and started a cursory exam. The kid looked like he'd been the one to go ten rounds with the poltergeist instead of Dean and John. Small tremors ran through his body and Dean gripped his chin gently. "Sammy?"  
Before Dean could ask any more questions, John's voice carried through the station.  
"You mean to tell me that you tasered an unarmed fifteen year old boy while he was locked in a cell? What kind of cowards are working for you, Sherriff?"  
"Tasered?" Dean stared at Sam, who nodded.  
"I just wanna sit down, Dean." Leaning his side against the bars, Sam slid to sit down. Dean kneeled on the other side of the bars.  
John appeared with the Sherriff leading the way. The Sherriff nodded to the deputy, who opened the cell. Immediately, Dean rushed in and helped Sam to his feet. Slowly he led his younger brother out of the station and into the car.  
"Dad, he needs a doctor-"  
"No!" Sam shook his head.  
"Sammy, you've got tasered, you've got a hell of a lump on your head. You look like you got your ass kicked.. You need to be checked out."  
John nudged Dean out of the way and looked at Sam. "The shaking is from the taser. It will go away. Let's get the hell out of here before they decide to try to run Sam in again."  
The ride back to the hotel was silent. Dean drove, knowing John was not in condition to drive yet, but he kept watching Sam in the rear view mirror. Sam was sitting in the corner behind Dean, just staring out the window.  
As soon as the car stopped John was out and pulling Sam into the room. When Sam sat down on the bed, John leaned over him. "Sam, the Sherriff told me you attacked six boys with a hockey stick and put them all in the hospital. I need to you tell me if that's true."  
After a long pause, Sam nodded. "Yes, sir."  
"They jump you?" Dean knew Sam would have never started have started the fight if there had been any way to avoid it.  
For a moment, what almost looked like fear crossed Sam's face. "Yes."    
"Dean, stay out of this. Were they armed?"  
"With the- with the stick." The shakes got worse and Sam tried to pull away from John. John held his arm until Sam jerked away and stood. Struggling to keep his balance, Sam moved towards the bathroom. "I need a shower."  
"Sam-" John's voice rose, but Sam grabbed his duffel and disappeared in the bathroom.  
Dean heard the lock to the bathroom engage and turned to John. "Dad, he's hurt."  
"I need to figure out what to do." John shook his head. "Christ, he's in a world of shit this time." Sighing, John pointed towards the bathroom. "He's not leaving this room tonight. We'll take another look at him and make sure he doesn't need a doctor, but he stays put unless I'm with him. I'm going across the street for a while."  
Knowing that there was nothing but a bar across the street, Dean nodded. After John left, Dean stared at the bathroom door, waiting for Sam to exit.

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

  
Sam stood in the hot shower, holding on to both sides to stay on his feet. For the first time in two days he stopped trying to fight his feelings and let it go. Falling to his knees, his mind replayed everything that had led up to him being in a cell for two days.

  
_After gym class, Sam had retreated to the shower to rinse off before walking home. It was his last class, so he wasn't in a hurry, but had waited until all of the others had gone before him and he thought he was alone.  As he was reaching into his locker for his jeans something grabbed him from behind and slammed his head into the locker. For a moment, everything grayed out and he couldn't make his body react to the hands that were dragging him back to the shower._  
 _"Get him on his knees, come on, hold him!"_  
 _Finding the strength, Sam kicked out and felt his foot connect with a body. He jerked his arm and twisted away from the boy holding him to try to hit the one on the other side. Another boy kicked him in his back and he fell forward. Before he could move, three of them grabbed him and pushed his face into the tile of the floor. Something was shoved into his mouth so he couldn't scream._  
 _"Watch his legs, man. He already kicked me once, will you fucking hold him!" When Sam felt hands grabbing at his underwear, he panicked. He twisted violently, desperate to break the hold the boys had on him. Before he could even get his hands under him, one of them kicked him in his ribs so hard he thought he felt a sharp crack as the breath left his body._  
 _He fought to draw a breath, but when it finally came, it left him again in an agonized scream that was muffled by the gag. He had no idea what they were using, but it was hard, sharp, and felt like it was tearing him apart inside. His struggles to free himself only made them laugh harder and increased the pain. Unable to stop himself, he began to cry.  The laughter echoed in the shower and Sam wondered if they were ever going to stop. Finally it was over and one of them leaned down to his ear._  
 _"You ever tell anyone about this, the next time we'll use a knife. We'll shove it so far up your ass you'll choke on it and they'll never find your body." The hands released him. For a brief moment Sam fell to his side, trying to breathe through the pain. Then he saw it. A hockey stick. With his blood on the handle._  
 _When Sam swung the stick at the first boy, the other five took a few seconds to realize what happened. But they were no match for the years of training fueled by the rage coursing through Sam.  It was over in just under two minutes. He'd taken a few blows, but nothing that actually did damage. Any more damage._  
 _When the coach came into the locker room to see what the commotion was Sam was getting dressed, ignoring the six boys on the ground bleeding nearby. Sam couldn't force his mind to comprehend the questions being fired at him, and his instinct was to run. But his physical condition was failing quickly and slowed him down enough for the coach to grab him and shove him into the wall. His head made a hard connection with the wall again and he fell to the ground. By the time he was able to even attempt to get to his feet the Sherriff and several deputies were there. Again, lots of questions that Sam couldn't answer and it didn't take much for the authorities to decide that Sam was going to jail. When the deputies tried to push him to the ground to handcuff him, Sam panicked. All his mind could comprehend was that he was being pushed down again for God knew what and he struck out. He landed a few blows, but his weakened condition was no match for angry deputies with nightsticks._  
  
Sam's stomach rolled and he didn't fight it. He'd had nothing to eat in over two days, so all he could manage was weak dry heaving between sobs that he prayed Dean couldn't hear over the sound of the shower.  
It had been over thirty minutes when Dean finally knocked on the door. "Sammy?" When he didn't get a response, he knocked louder. "Sammy? I'm gonna kick this door in if you don't let me know you're okay."  
Just as he lifted his foot, he heard Sam's voice.  
"I'll be out in a minute."  
That one sentence had taken most of Sam's energy, but he turned the water off and yanked the curtain back. Wrapping a towel around his waist he stepped out of the tub carefully and looked around. When his eyes spotted his clothes on the floor his breath caught in his throat and tears threatened again. His jeans and briefs were laying there, the blood in them an obvious sign of what he'd been unable to stop and he snatched them up before Dean came in and saw them. His long jacket had – thank God- hidden anything that might have shown through the outside of the jeans. Shoving them into his duffel, he dressed as quickly as he could and stepped out of the bathroom to the worried face of his brother. 

The second Dean saw Sam he knew damn well the hoodie and sweatpants were to hide any injuries that Dean might want to see.

“Wanna get some sleep, Dean. Please?”

“Look at me, first.” Dean stared into Sam’s eyes. He was looking for signs of a concussion, but what he saw in his brothers’ eyes worried him. There was definitely something that Sam wasn’t going to discuss at the moment.

“I’m fine.” Before Dean could say anything else, Sam curled up on his bed and closed his eyes.

Quietly, Dean moved to Sam with some Tylenol and a glass of water. “Might make it a little easier to sleep?” He barely heard Sam’s whisper of thanks before he swallowed them.

Dean had been watching Sam sleep for about an hour when John’s voice accompanied his loud knock on the door. Sam stirred and Dean opened the door quickly to keep his father from announcing his arrival again.

“Move your stuff.” John’s order was abrupt and he threw his bags down in the room.

“Dad?” Dean was confused. They hadn’t shared one room in almost two years.

“What, you think they let your brother out of jail free? Bail wasn’t cheap, Dean. Pretty much broke us.” John’s tone was just as irritated as it had been when he’d left hours ago. “We’re sharing for now.”

Dean turned to Sam, hoping he was still asleep, but suspecting he was alert and listening. He pointed to the door, but John shook his head.

“Sammy needs to hear this, too. So get him up.” Before Dean could reply, John disappeared into the bathroom.

“Sammy?” Sitting down on the bed, Dean touched Sam’s shoulder gently. The brief feel of taunt muscle just before Sam flinched from his touch confirmed Dean’s suspicions.  “Might as well listen up. “

John exited the bathroom, reached for a bottle of Jack Daniels from his bag and sat on what was now his bed.

“Gotta tell ya, Sammy. When you fuck up, you don’t do it half-ass, kiddo. Six counts assault with a deadly weapon, one count resisting arrest, and, the icing on their god damn cake, they’re trying to get the D.A. to go for two counts attempted murder and charge you as an adult.” He slammed the bottle on the table. “I want to know what the fuck you were thinking? You should have been able to get out of it without using the fucking stick. That is what changed everything. That’s not even knowing about how well you were trained to fight. I taught  you to fight things that fight a hell of a  lot better than six stupid football players. Suddenly you need a hockey stick to get your point across?”

“Dad, they came at him with the stick.” Dean tried to defend Sam, who obviously had no intention of responding for himself.

“You’re both smarter than this. You break the fucking stick and kick their asses. You don’t try to kill them over a locker room fight.” John wasn’t going to give Sam an inch on this. “Answer me, Sam. What were you thinking?”

After a long silence, Sam almost whispered. “I wasn’t.”

“Damn right you weren’t. Now I have to figure out what the hell we’re going to do. I’m going to have to run up to Clayton to get some cash and supplies.” He took another shot. “Apparently the only thing this hell hole has going for it was a state champion high school football team. And Sammy shot that to shit by taking out six of their starting players. Plus they’re all friends or related in some way.”

“Great. Inbred mother fuckers.” Dean shook his head.

John shot Dean a glare. “Point is that I have to go a few towns over. We need a cash advance on the rest of our cards, and supplies. Don’t even want to order a drink around here. They’ll fucking spit in it.”   

“Why don’t we just get out of here, Dad?”  Dean was more than ready to put this town in his rear view mirror.

“Because the little bit of cash I have left won’t get us far. We won’t be far enough away for the bench warrant that will be issued as soon as they realize Sam’s gone. And since one of Sam’s victims happens to be the Sherriff’s son, he WILL come after us. That son of a bitch is out for Sammy’s blood.”

“Then I’ll go with you.” Dean was worried about getting food back as fast as possible, knowing that Sam most likely hadn’t eaten since his arrest. “I can help get whatever we need.”

“You will stay here and keep him on lockdown.” John swung the bottle in Sam’s direction. “He goes nowhere.  You stick inside, too. I don’t want you running into trouble over his fuck up.” 

Sam had been leaning quietly against the headboard, his eyes down on his fidgeting hands.

“You gonna say something, Sammy?” John’s voice was demanding an answer.

At Sam’s negative head shake, John stood. “God dammit, Sam! You are not going to sit back and pretend this doesn’t concern you when this entire shitstorm is your fault!” 

“Dad-“ Dean started to intervene.

“Shut up, Dean.” John began to shout. “That Sherriff wants to put Sam in a maximum security prison for the next 20 years.  I think we’re beyond anything you can say to make this better. He needs to stop acting like a pouting brat and fucking talk to me!”  Reaching over, he gripped Sam’s arm and dragged him over to the side of the bed. Sam struggled, but John wasn’t about to let him off the hook.  “I want you to say something, Sam. I want you to tell your brother and me why our last few dollars are sitting in a Sherriff’s office and we’re about to run to keep you out of prison. I want to know what the fuck you were thinking! What the hell was going through your head?”

Sam stared up at John, trying to think of a way to avoid the conversation. Finally he replied in almost a whisper. “A hockey stick.”

Dean saw the blow coming, but there was no way to stop it. John’s hand crossed Sam’s face and sent him sprawling back onto the bed. “You ungrateful fucking bastard!”

Sam’s ears were ringing, but he knew the conversation was over. He’d rather take the physical blows from John then be forced to discuss what had happened in that locker room with either of them.  He felt John’s hand clench in his hoodie to pull him back up. When the hoodie pulled tight on his neck and he started to choke, he realized he might have miscalculated just how angry he had managed to make his father.  

“I should take you right back down to that station, get my money back and let you take your own chances.  See how far that attitude of yours gets you with them!”

Both boys knew John would never do that, but Sam could feel his father shaking from the anger he’d instigated.

Dean watched the entire scene play out in front of him. John rarely hit either of them as children, and, other than sparring, he hadn’t in over a year now. Both brothers learned quickly that alcohol made the odds of getting hit pretty high, so they both learned to stay out of his way when the bottle was open. He knew Sam was aware of the consequences of what he’d said but it hadn’t stopped him. There had to be a reason, but Dean knew he had no chance of finding out at that moment. So he stayed quiet, hoping things didn’t get too violent between his father and brother. 

The hoodie pulled tighter on Sam’s throat, and he felt himself being dragged back across the bed. His mind suddenly slammed him back to the locker room floor and he began to panic. Before he could stop himself he struck out with his leg, catching John on the hip.

The kick took John by surprise. Neither boy had ever raised their hand to him and John’s alcohol enhanced anger went up another notch.  “You think you’re gonna take me? You better think twice, Sammy, about what you’re doing. I won’t take this shit from you and you will be out on your ass. You think you’re tough enough to take me we’ll see how tough you are sitting here alone. We’ll leave you in this shithole.” Not letting go of Sam’s hoodie, he reached for Sam’s side to flip him over.

When John’s hand came in contact with the rib that was most likely cracked from the kick he’d taken, Sam tried to scream, but the hoodie was too tight around his throat. He twisted and began to struggle against his father’s hands.  Still thinking Sam was fighting him, John gripped the boy tighter and pulled him towards the edge of the bed. By the time Sam was sliding off the side of the bed he was desperately struggling to get away from John. Another kick landed on John’s knee and he drew back his own foot. When it connected with Sam’s thigh, a sharp spasm ran through the muscle. John knew exactly where to kick to cause the least amount of damage but the most pain. Sam still couldn’t manage a sound around the hoodie, but he tried to crawl away from his father.

“Not so tough, now, are you?” John knew Sam’s leg was cramping from the kick.

Shaking his head, Sam actually whimpered. His body was already so sore that John’s blows had completely shattered what self control he’d managed to attain. The boy finally broke free and crawled under the table next to Dean and curled up in a ball.

John stepped towards Sam, but Dean stood in his way. “Dad, enough.”

“Stay out of this, Dean. Sammy’s decided he’s a tough guy.”

“Dad, he’s cowering under a table! That’s not a tough guy, that’s your scared son. Enough.” Dean lowered his voice, hoping to get through to John and not draw his anger. But if it took drawing John’s anger to get him away from Sam, that’s what he’d do.

Stopping, John stared at Sam for a moment. A brief look of guilt flashed across his face, but he turned to Dean. “I have to get out of here and get supplies. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

After the door shut behind John, Dean kneeled down to Sam. “Come on, Sammy. He’s gone.”

Sam inched his way farther back against the wall.

“Sammy, what the hell? It’s just the two of us, man. Come on out.”

Slowly, Sam forced himself to move. Limping to the bed, he climbed into it and hunched down under the covers.

After a quick trip down the hall for ice, Dean approached Sam with an ice bag. “Roll over. Let me see.”

“I’m fine.” Sam’s voice wasn’t much more than a whisper.

“Yeah, right. Dad hits like a fucking sledgehammer and you’re fine. Let me see.” Dean reached out and pulled on Sam’s shoulder, but let go quickly when Sam jerked away from him. Shaking the ice bag, Dean leaned back. “I’m not going anywhere until you let me take a look.”

Sam sighed and rolled over to face his brother. His eye was already swollen and a large bruise was forming on his face. But what stopped Dean was the bright red line across his throat.

“What the fuck?” When he pulled on Sam’s hoodie, he realized exactly what had happened. The collar was solid, with no give to it. “Jesus, Sam. You kicked Dad ‘cause he was choking the shit out of you.”

Sam nodded.

Reaching into Sam’s bag, Dean pulled another shirt out and handed it to Sam. “Put this on. We need to ice down your face and throat.”

With a shake of his head, Sam tried to turn back from Dean.

“No, Sammy. Not this time. Come on.” Dean reached to pull the hoodie up but Sam smacked his hand and moved to the edge of the bed. Knowing there was more to this, Dean slid closer behind his brother. “Okay, now you’re setting off my Spidey sense that something’s up with you. Come on. I’m not letting this go.”

Refusing to meet Dean’s eyes, Sam finally sat up and gingerly pulled the hoodie off over his head.

“God damn, Sam. Why didn’t you say something?” Dean stared at the bruises that littered Sam’s torso. Most of them were long and thin but one covered Sam’s side at his ribcage. Gently he reached out to touch it and his fears were confirmed when Sam almost yelped and pulled away. “That rib broken?”

“Don’t think so. Cracked maybe. S’better now.”

“Too late for ice for any of these. Put this on your throat, I’ll get another one for your eye. Hopefully you’ll be able to see out of it tomorrow. These from the hockey stick?” Dean knew Sam hadn’t started the fight, but this was what John needed to see. Until Sam answered.

“Nightsticks.” Green eyes continued to stare at the bed and refused to meet Dean’s.

“The fucking cops did this to you?” Jumping to his feet, Dean started to pace. “I’ll rip their lungs out! I swear, Sam, I’ll kill those fucking bastards.” Through his tirade, it took him a few minutes to hear Sam’s whispers.

“Stop. Dean, don’t. Dean, stop it.”

The sight of tears on Sam’s cheek stopped Dean. “Sammy, I need to know what happened. I can’t fix this if I don’t know what I’m fixing.”

“You can’t fix this, Dean. You’ll just end up in jail, too.” After pulling the new shirt over his head Sam curled up under the blanket.

 The tremors that went through Sam actually scared Dean. Grabbing the ice bags, Dean made a decision. He sat down on the bed behind his little brother and gently pulled Sam into his arms like he had when Sam was little.

The feel of Dean’s arms encircling him made Sam’s skin crawl at first. A sense of being held against his will flashed through him and he tensed. Sensing something was off with the younger boy, Dean loosened his grip and allowed Sam to situate himself. The feeling of being restrained passed, and Sam curled up in his big brothers arms. The thought that Dean would never touch him again if he knew what had happened terrified him, and he fought tears. Dean didn’t understand what was happening, but the hitch to his little brother’s breath told him exactly what he needed to do. When Sam felt the small circles Dean’s hand made on his back, he leaned back and accepted the ice bags to his face and throat.

“We’re going to fix this, Sammy. We’ll figure it out.” As it always had, Dean’s soft whispers soothed Sam and he slowly relaxed.

After almost a half hour, Sam finally fell asleep. Once Dean was sure he was in a sound enough sleep, he stood. The first thing he needed to do was figure out a way to get at least something for Sam to eat when he woke. It occurred to him that there might be enough change in the Impala for him to at least get Sam something out of the machine in the lobby. When Dean exited the hotel he realized there were three deputies in the parking lot, watching him cross the lot and get in the car. It didn’t take much for Dean to figure out they were watching for Sam to make a run for it. Dad was right. They were out for his baby brother’s blood.

After a thorough search, Dean came up with enough for a bag of chips and a soda for Sam. The lobby was deserted except for a desk clerk when Dean got to the vending machines. But when he turned back to the door, a man was standing there.

“You got a problem?” Dean’s defensive nature kicked in and he faced the man.

“Winchester?”

“What’s it to you?”

“You see all the cops outside?”

“How could I miss them?” The sarcastic tone of Dean’s voice didn’t help matters.

“I don’t need this kind of heat around here. Makes other guests nervous.”

“Well why don’t we just go ask them nicely to leave.”

The manager wasn’t amused. “I don’t know what happened, and I don’t care. I don’t want this kind of heat around here. I’ll give you until tomorrow, but you need to start looking for a new place to crash, man.”

“Great. I’ll get on it.” Taking the chips and soda, Dean headed back to the room. He was about half way to the door leading to their hallway when he spotted the same three and two more deputies standing too close together at the wall. Knowing this was not a good sign, Dean started to run back towards them. Sure enough, they were crowded around Sam, who was leaning against the wall and staring at the ground.

“What the hell?” Dean spoke loudly, drawing their attention from Sam.

“Don’t think we’re not watching you get ready to leave. Saw your father pack his stuff.”

“We’re changing hotels.” A bit of truth to throw them off, Dean almost smiled.

“And why should we believe you?”

“Well, seems you assholes are bad for business- and” One of the deputies took offense at Dean’s comment and punched him in the face.

“Stop!” Sam stepped between Dean and the officers.

Reaching for Sam, Dean gently pulled him until he was standing behind Dean and there was one again a barrier between Sam and the Deputies. “Sammy, did they touch you?”

“We didn’t put a hand on him. Just made sure he understands how long he’s going to be in prison and how just popular his scrawny little ass is going to be. He’ll be taking the beating instead of handing it out there, won’t ya, Sam? You’ll be a popular little bitch.” One of the deputies smiled at Dean and the older Winchester saw red. If Sam hadn’t been shaking so hard he was basically vibrating against Dean’s back he might have taken on all  five officers himself.

“We’re going back inside now. And when we decide which hotel we’ll be moving to, my father will be sure to let you know.”

“Just how old are you, son?” The condescending tone grated on Dean’s last nerve.

“Old enough to know I’m not your son. Thank god for small favors, right?”

“I’ve had enough of your mouth!” Once again, Dean felt a fist slam into his face and this time he tasted blood. “Where is your father?”

“None of your goddamn business.” Dean spit blood close, but not on, the boots of the officer that had hit him.

“Now, that’s where you’re dead wrong, you little son of a bitch.” Now the deputy grinned. “When your daddy posted bail and signed your little shit brother out of jail, the details of that agreement were that he was released into your father’s custody. That does not include your father going to the next town and getting ready to get you out of here.”

Sam’s fists clenched in Dean’s jacket and Dean began to see where this was going.  Turning to Sam, he gripped his shoulders. “Let’s get back inside. Dad will be back soon.”

The deputies blocked their way. “Now that’s where I know you’re lying. I have it on good authority that John Winchester was seen up in Clayton. Now that’s about five hours away. Suddenly you two appear in the parking lot. Don’t have to be genius to figure out what’s up with you three. You’re not going to get the chance to run on this one. Your father reneged on his bail agreement and-“ He pointed to Sam. “That psycho little shit goes back to jail.”

“No.” The soft, panicked, pleading whisper was all Dean needed to hear from his baby brother. Shoving Sam and yelling for him to run, Dean took several rapid swings at the deputies. Dean knew it was a losing battle, but he hoped Sam could get away. As a nightstick came down across the back of his head, he saw Sam on the ground with two of the deputies literally kneeling on him to keep him down. Then everything went black.


	3. Save Me 3/?

Save me  
Characters: Sam Dean John OC  
Pairing: none  
Teenchester Sam 15, Dean 19  
Rating: M language non-graphic violence

The voice mail from an unknown number had not been a priority for Dean, so it had been there for several hours. The instant Dean heard the familiar voice he stopped and sat down heavily.  
"Dean?.... It's Sam. I need some help..... I'm in jail."

Possible trigger- highlight to read  non-graphic underage non/con object insertion 

Chapter 1-     <http://jasmineisland.livejournal.com/1638.html>

 

When Dean opened his eyes, he realized he was in a cell. 

“Dean?” 

Sam’s voice was soft, like he knew the back of Dean’s head was about to explode. Slowly, Dean turned to look at his brother. “I’m okay, Sammy.” 

“You’ve been out for almost an hour, Dean. That’s NOT okay.” 

“My head’s harder than any stick they have, you know that.” Dean shrugged. “How bad they fuck you up?” 

“Not too bad. Few more bruises. Dad will probably do a worse job when he gets back.” 

Knowing Sam was right, Dean moaned and closed his eyes. “You get a phone call yet?”

“No. “ 

“Good. I’d rather be the one to call Dad.” Another thought occurred to him. “What were you doing outside?” 

A long moment of silence followed before Sam answered in a shaky voice. “Woke up, you were gone. Just wanted to be sure……. If the Impala was still there.” 

It made Dean’s head pound when he sat up, but he jumped to his feet and crossed the cell to the bars adjoining the two cells. “You wanted to make sure I was still there? Sammy, why would you think I wouldn’t be?” 

“Dad threatened to leave me, and if he ordered you to…..” Sam’s voice trailed off, but Dean knew him well enough to know that he stopped because he was actually in tears. 

“I follow orders, Sam, but I don’t give a damn what Dad says, I’d never leave you here on your own. Jesus, you actually thought I’d run off with Dad and left you in that hotel alone?” Anger was quickly taking over Dean’s voice. 

“Sorry, Dean.” Now he was crying. “I just panicked.” 

The strained voice stopped Dean cold. It occurred to him that no matter how big Sam was, how smart he was, or how strong he was on a hunt, he was still only fifteen. Sometimes he and John forgot that. “It’s okay, Sammy.” Dean’s voice lowered. “I thought you’d sleep for a while. I found enough change under the seat of the Impala to get you some chips and a soda. Figured you hadn’t eaten in a while. Sorry I scared you.” 

Sam nodded and Dean retreated back to his cot. 

Both boys sat quietly, each trying to figure out what was coming next. It didn’t take long to find out. A deputy finally appeared and faced them. “Which one of you want to call Daddy?”

Standing, Dean made his way to the cell door. 

“Turn around.” 

The fact that they cuffed him before removing him from the cell told Dean they were not going to take any chances with either of them at this point. The thought of calling John with the latest development actually made him more nauseous then the concussion, but he knew it had to be done. 

“Dean?” John’s voice echoed through the cells. 

_ Great. Pissed off deputies and Dad’s probably in the bottle already. _ Dean could tell from the tone of John’s voice this was not going to be pleasant for either of them. 

John appeared with a deputy. “Let him out.” When the officer didn’t open Sam’s cell as well, Dean turned to John. 

“Sam’s going to be our guest for a while. We don’t take kindly to flight risks.” The deputy’s smug grin and tone made Dean want to hit him again. 

“Dad?” 

“Bail’s revoked. So got my money back and bailed you out. Let’s go.” 

“No. Dad, we can’t leave him alone here.” Dean stepped back towards the cell. “I’ll stay.” 

Gripping his jacket, John yanked Dean closer to him. “You’ll follow orders. Get your ass out to the car.” 

Dean opened his mouth to argue again, but Sam stopped him. “Dean, just go. Dad can’t bail me out. Get out of here before these assholes decide they want another work out.” 

As expected, the deputy turned from Dean and moved towards the cell. “You little bastard, you haven’t gotten a tenth of what you deserve. Those were good boys you decided to split open and leave bleeding.” 

Leaning closer to John, Dean fought to restrain tears. “They’re gonna hurt him, Dad.” 

“Should learn to shut his mouth for a change.” John shoved Dean ahead of him and exited the station. 

The sight of John shoving Dean out the door gave Sam a feeling of finality that he hadn’t realized would hit him so hard. Being alone with no bail in sight and an entire station of cops that wanted nothing more than to kick his ass six ways from Sunday actually terrified him.Plus the latest round of blows had made his entire body nothing more than one big aching bruise. Shifting back down on the cot, he winced from a sharp pain that seemed to radiate up his spine. Sam wondered if he’d started to bleed again. 

Out in the parking lot, Dean couldn’t hold his temper. “We can’t leave him in there with those assholes, Dad!” 

“He wouldn’t be back in there if YOU had followed orders.” John shoved him towards the Impala and Dean bounced off of it painfully. “I told you to keep him on lockdown, and you couldn’t manage that!” 

Guilt flooded Dean and, like he did a lot of the time when it came to Sam, he struck out without thinking. “That and the fact that you didn’t read a fucking piece of paper before you signed it.” 

The blow came so quickly Dean didn’t have a chance to even turn his head. Suddenly he was sitting on the ground and he mouth was full of blood. 

“Get off your ass and get in the god damned car.” John moved to the driver’s seat and got in. 

Once Dean was seated, John spoke quietly, but Dean could hear how angry he was. “There is nothing we can do to get Sammy out. The two of you managed to fuck up even worse then he already had. Now they’re after you for assault on their deputies.” Suddenly he slammed on the brakes and turned to Dean. “Where the fuck were you taking him after I told you to stay inside?” 

“Nowhere!” Dean shouted back. “I dug around under the seats for change so Sammy could have a coke and a bag of chips, Dad. He hasn’t eaten in days now. He woke up, I wasn’t there. You had already threatened that we were going to abandon him, and he panicked.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “I was trying to take care of him.” 

Sighing, John ran his hand over his face. In that second, the anger left his body and was replaced with exhaustion. “I don’t know what we’re going to do. They have to provide an attorney, but that Sherriff is going to do everything he can to make sure Sammy gets the most ass-backwards lawyer they can find. He fucked up, Dean. And I don’t know how to fix it.” His voice betrayed to Dean just how much the thought of losing Sam to a prison cell terrified him. 

“And I guess there’s no good time to tell you the rest.” Dean was desperate to NOT hear how close to the edge John was. Time to NOT talk about Sam. 

“The rest of what?” 

“We have to get out of the hotel. They don’t like the cops that were surrounding the place watching us.” 

“Fucking fantastic.” John sighed again. “I used the money from Sammy’s revoked bond to get you out, but I only managed to get about $550 before I got the call that you were both in lockup. With the Sherriff watching me, I’m afraid to attract attention right now.” 

Dean sighed. He had no problem sleeping in the Impala if it came down to it, but he wasn’t so sure John would go for it. 

As Dean shut the trunk and threw the last duffle bag in the back seat, he was startled to see a girl about Sam’s age standing by the door to the hotel. On a normal day, Dean would have cared about the fact that the girl looked like she had been crying for days, but this wasn’t a normal day. His face resembled a punching bag, his head was throbbing, and he felt like a bruise from his forehead to his big toe. As he went to move past her, she looked up at him. 

“I didn’t know. I swear to God I didn’t know.” 

“Know what?” The last thing he wanted to do was deal with her. 

“About what they did.” 

“Who?” 

“Kevin, Mark, Chris,-“ 

“Look, I don’t give a damn about them right now, so…” Turning to walk away, Dean glared when she grabbed his arm. “What?” 

“Just…… I’m Mark’s girlfriend. Was…..” 

“Then I sure as hell have nothing to say to you.” 

“Will you just stop for a minute!” The girl almost screamed at him and she began to cry again. “He’ll kill me if he finds out, but I don’t care right now.” 

“I don’t care, either, kid.” Brushing by her, Dean grabbed the handle on the door. 

“He should have killed them.” 

“What?” That stopped Dean and he turned to face her. 

“Sam. He should have killed them for what they did. I didn’t know. I swear to God-“

“Yeah, I got that part. You didn’t know. Didn’t know what?” 

She stared at him for almost 30 seconds. “Oh, my, God. You don’t know. You’re his brother, aren’t you?” 

“Yes. What don’t I know?” Now that she had Dean’s attention, he was growing aggravated that she wouldn’t tell him what she was talking about. 

“He didn’t tell you. I guess I can understand that. I mean-“ 

“Will you for Christ’s sake get to the point and fucking tell me what you came here to tell me?” 

“They taped it.” She began to cry harder. “Mark’s phone rang and I answered it. He was asleep, so I just started playing on his phone. I found it. I didn’t know. The whole thing’s on here.” 

Dean took the cell phone from her hand and hit the first video on the list. He almost squeezed the phone to the point of breaking it when he watched five boys dragging his half conscious brother into the shower. Even though he knew the outcome, Dean smiled when Sam took the two holding him by surprise and nearly got away. But then the picture jerked when the boy holding the phone, apparently Mark, moved in to deliver the kick to Sam’s ribs that Dean suspected left the bruise he’d found. When he saw one of them approaching with the hockey stick, Dean expected to see Sam turn the tables on them and start pounding on them. What Dean witnessed instead dropped him to his knees. Even through a gag, Dean could hear the pleading cries of his baby brother when they violated him with the hockey stick. Without warning, Dean’s stomach contracted and violently ejected its entire contents on the ground in front of him.

He was still on his knees dry heaving when John exited the hotel. The sight of his usually nonchalant son literally throwing his guts up while a girl was facing the wall crying was more than enough to alert John that something was up. Running to Dean, he knelt down beside him and reached for him. 

“Dean?” 

He felt his father’s hand rubbing small circles on his back just as it had when he was sick as a child. But his father couldn’t comfort him through this. Finally, the heaves slowed enough for Dean to look over at him. Even as he handed John the phone, something in him made him hesitate. Sam hadn’t told anyone about this. Sam didn’t want anyone to know about this. _Jesus, who would want anyone to know this?_ went through Dean’s mind. 

“They hurt him, Dad.” The crack in his voice startled him and Dean realized he was crying. “Those mother fuckers hurt him. They had no right! Who the fuck do they think they are to do this to him?” 

The sound of sniffling drew his attention back to the girl. “You tell your boyfriend he’s mine.” Dean stood to face her. “I will carve him up and gut him for this. And then if he’s lucky I’ll shoot him to put him out of his misery when I’m done.” 

John reached for Dean to stop him from making such blatant public threats, but Dean shrugged his arm away. 

Instead of the shock or fear that John expected, the girl merely nodded. “You should. Sam’s not the only one on that phone.” 

John played the video for himself. Unable to watch it or even hear it again, Dean turned and moved towards the back of the Impala. 

Motioning for the girl to follow him, he stared at her. “Do you know the others on that phone?” 

She nodded. “They’re all terrified of Mark and his friends, but I thought it was threats. I swear to God I had no idea what they’d done to them. Makes me wonder what’s on the other guys phones.” 

John made a sound that Dean had never heard before and turned to him. The sight of his father leaning against the wall, clutching the phone to his chest while tears ran down his face crumbled what was left of any semblance of holding it together Dean had managed to achieve. Telling the girl to leave, he moved to his father. 

The image of his baby boy being hurt so badly broke something inside John. When Dean approached him, he still couldn’t form a coherent thought. 

“Dad?” 

Dean’s voice brought his attention to his oldest. 

“What do we do?” 

His first instinct was to destroy it. If Sam didn’t know he’d been taped, he could protect him from that. As he raised his hand to smash the phone, Dean grabbed him. “Dad, stop!” 

“He can’t know about this- he can never see this- Why would you want him to?“ John was rambling, trying to make Dean understand why it had to be destroyed.

“Dad, they’ll drop the charges!” Dean grabbed his father’s arm. “You’re holding a get out of jail free card for Sammy! It was self defense.” Prying the phone out of John’s hand, Dean wiped the offending tears off his own face. “I don’t want him to know about this anymore then you do, but this is how we’re going to get him out of jail.” 

In that moment, John realized how much taking care of Sam was ingrained in Dean. No matter how much this hurt, this was the leverage they needed to get Sam back and get him out of this hick town. 

“Whatever he needs, we’ll deal with it, Dad. But let’s get him the hell out of here.” 

“Did you know?” 

Dean shook his head. “He didn’t tell me about this. He wouldn’t tell me anything about what happened.” His voice broke. “I should have known, Dad. If Sammy wouldn’t tell me I should have known it was really bad.” 

“Stop. We both know when Sam doesn’t want to talk about something, nothing can make him, he-“ A thought occurred to John and he gripped Dean’s arm. “Where’s his bag?” When Dean pointed to the Impala, he ordered Dean to get it and went back inside. 

Not sure what John had in mind, Dean did what his father told him to do and headed back to their room. John was standing beside Sam’s bed. “Check his clothes.” 

His voice was barely a whisper, and Dean knew what John was looking for wasn’t good. Quickly he opened the duffle and started pulling Sam’s clothes out and throwing them on John’s bed. Finally he got to the bottom and found the tightly rolled ball that Sam had tried to hide from them. “Oh, Jesus.” It was all Dean could get out around the feeling that his stomach was about to rebel again. The blood in his pants, the injuries he must have sustained, it was more than Dean could handle at that moment. Dropping them on the bed, he moved to John, fearing it was about to get worse. 

John was holding up the blankets and staring at a blood stain on the bed where Sam had been sleeping. It was small, like maybe the bleeding had slowed, but John wasn’t convinced. “Check under his side of the bed.” 

Shaking hands reached under and pulled out a bloody towel that Sam had stuffed under the bed- again, to hide from Dean and John. They’re eyes met over the evidence and both men fought tears. Literally falling into the chair beside the bed, Dean put his head in his hands. “I want to hunt them, Dad. I don’t care if they’re human. I want them all dead.” 

"You're not the only one, Dean.  FUCK! "  John turned and threw the lamp across the room into the mirror.  “ Two days I left my son in a jail cell while he was hurt, bleeding, and I threatened him for almost doing exactly what I want to do right now.” 

“Not exactly, Dad.” Dean shook his head. “Sam could have killed them. We both know Sammy could have ended all six of them right there. He doesn’t have it in him, even after what they did to him.” 

John stared at Dean, knowing he was right. His first instinct would not have been to let them live and he knew Dean would feel the same way. He picked the phone up off the table. “Do you know how to make a copy of this?” 

“Why would you want that?” Dean was so disgusted by it he couldn’t imagine making copies. 

“Because I’m taking this with us and we’re not taking chances with the only copies.” John handed the phone to him before sitting back down. “I can’t believe this.” 

“We’re going to get him out of there.” Dean emailed the videos to the laptop. 

“I know that.” He ran his hand over his face and wiped his eyes. “I just….. Jesus. I….. he wasn’t hurt enough I…. I had to hit him, too.” 

“Dad, come on. Neither one of us knew what had happened. Sammy knew he was going to piss you off-“

“Because he didn’t want me to ask questions about what happened to him.” John sighed. 

Unable to argue that point, Dean checked the laptop. “Done.” 

Standing, John reached for the phone. “Let’s go get your brother.”    
  



	4. Save Me

Save me  4/?  
Characters: Sam Dean John OC  
Pairing: none  
Teenchester Sam 15, Dean 19  
Rating: M language non-graphic violence

The voice mail from an unknown number had not been a priority for Dean, so it had been there for several hours. The instant Dean heard the familiar voice he stopped and sat down heavily.  
"Dean?.... It's Sam. I need some help..... I'm in jail."

Possible trigger-  non-graphic underage non/con object insertion 

It wasn’t lost on Sam that Dad made him wait over a day to come bail him out, but when Dean was the one that called Dad couldn’t get back to town to get him fast enough. Part of him understood that Dad hadn’t been on a hunt, but the hurt just wouldn’t go away. He wasn’t Dean, and Sam knew that his father was as aware of that as Sam was. If he’d been Dean, what had happened to him wouldn’t have happened. The logical, ‘geek’ part of Sam knew that by not telling anyone what had been done to him might mean spending a good portion of his adult life behind bars. But Sammy, the little brother, was more afraid of the look of horror and disappointment that would come from his father and big brother if they ever found out what he’d allowed to happen. Or worse. The look of revulsion the he was certain would follow. He couldn’t stand to look in the mirror. How could his father or Dean ever stand to look at him again if they knew? 

The deputies had made it clear the other day that, as a fifteen year old tried as an adult, what had happened in that locker room would be pretty much a daily occurrence behind bars. Not that they had any idea how not ‘good boys’ those assholes were. But then, since the deputies were more than eager to tell Sam what was going to happen behind bars for the next 20 years maybe those ‘good boys’ were just following their leads. 

Sam’s head was spinning from the confused thoughts running around in his head. For a brief moment he considered telling someone, anyone, maybe his court appointed lawyer, what happened and why he’d almost killed those boys. His father was already disappointed in him on a daily basis, so what did he really have to lose? 

Dean.

The looks his father gave him were part of being Sam Winchester. The thought of Dean ever looking at him that way was more than Sam could bear. No. Dean would never know how weak he was. How unable to defend himself against them he was. How filthy he was now. 

The Sherriff left the station by the back door and wasn’t three feet outside when John punched him and took his gun out of the holster. “I want to know one thing.”

“You really think you’re going to get away with breaking your kid out of here?”

“I think you’re going to let him go after we have a chat. I want to know if you already know how fucking sick your son is or not.” 

“After what your son did-“ The Sherriff stopped speaking when John backhanded him so hard it made Dean’s teeth rattle from his spot next to John. 

“Wrong answer.” 

“You son of a bitch!” Blood flew with the spittle as the Sherriff stood up from where John’s swing had sent him off balance. 

Gripping the Sherriff by the neck, John held up the phone. “This belongs to Mark. I believe he’s a friend of your son’s?” Now he has the man’s attention. “Not only are they a sick bunch, they’re stupid. You don’t fucking record shit that will put you away.” 

“What are you talking about?” His anger was still seeping into his tone, but now he was also curious. 

“Get his hands. Don’t want him destroying evidence.” John waited until Dean had a grip on the Sherriff’s hands behind his back and started to play the video. Dean closed his eyes and tried to block out the sounds coming from the phone. John stared at the Sherriff’s reaction, desperately trying to figure out if the man in front of him had any knowledge of his son’s behavior. 

The Sherriff’s eyes watched the small screen, and John could see the shock in them when his son led his friends in beating Sam. As the video progressed, the Sherriff finally turned to John. “Turn it off. I don’t need to see anymore.” 

Even though he knew the Sherriff was shocked, John couldn’t help but take one more swing at the man as he stopped the video. “You don’t think my son wanted to stop it?” He wasn’t about to let the man know how glad he was to be able to stop it. He would be hearing those heartbreaking cries from his youngest son in his sleep for the rest of his life, and did not need this reminder. “You don’t think Sammy wanted them to turn it off and stop the whole thing?” Gripping the officer’s collar, John pulled him close. “Let me tell you something that you don’t know. My son could have killed all six of them. You could be burying Kevin right now if Sam had half of his father’s temper.” 

“I’ll let him go.” 

“Tell me something I don’t know.” 

“I’ll drop all charges against both your boys.”The Sherriff was close to tears and he stared at John. 

“What about Kevin and his friends?” Dean finally spoke up. “Sammy’s not the only one they-“ He couldn’t bring himself to say it. “Hurt.” 

“What?” Honestly looking like one more thing was going to completely shatter him, the Sherriff looked at Dean. 

“There’s five on this phone alone. God only knows how many more are on the other dick’s phones.” 

“What are you going to do?” The question was aimed at John. 

“I don’t know yet. Part of me would love to just destroy all of this and never even tell Sam it existed. But since there are at least four other kids that deserve their shot at those bastards I have to think about it.” 

“Kevin will go to jail.” It was only a whisper, but Dean stepped closer to the man. 

“Twenty years with that cute little ass- lots of play dates in the shower. Isn’t that what your asshole cops told my brother?” 

John turned to Dean, shocked. 

Dean nodded. “When they picked us up. No wonder Sammy freaked out when they grabbed him. He’d already been jumped in the shower and they told him it was coming again.” 

Taking a deep breath, John turned to the other father. “Jail beats dead. And that was my first instinct. Now we’re going to go get my son the hell out of here.” 

When they went back into the station, the two deputies that were seated at the desk jumped to their feet. “Sherriff, you okay?”

“Let the Winchester kid go.” 

“But you-“

“I said let him go!” He gestured towards John. “Give him back his money for the bail. I want all charges against both of them dropped.” 

“Go get your brother.” 

That was one order from John that Dean was more than happy to follow and he ran down the stairs. 

“Sammy!” Dean’s voice carried to the boy sitting on the cot. 

“Dean?” 

Beating the deputies to the cell door by about thirty seconds, Dean pulled on the bars impatiently. “You’re out of here, little brother. Told you we’d fix this.” 

“How?” Sam had no idea why the deputies were opening his cell, but he wasn’t about to wait for permission to leave. Almost running, he threw himself into Dean’s arms for a quick hug. But Dean didn’t let him go and squeezed Sam against him tighter. The bruises on Sam’s ribs protested, but he was too glad to be standing outside of the cell with his brother to care. 

Dean was trying desperately to keep Sam from figuring out what he knew until they were someplace private they could talk. He squeezed the arm around his brother’s neck tighter, to hold him where he couldn’t see Dean’s face until he was able to get a grip on what he was feeling. 

“Dean, choking now.” 

“Sorry, kiddo. Let’s get the hell out of here.” Almost dragging his brother, Dean climbed the stairs and headed back to John. 

The Sherriff turned to Sam and shook his head. “I had no idea. Sam, I’m sorry.” 

Sam stopped and jerked his arm away from Dean. 

“Sammy,” John started to speak, but the look in John’s eyes said it all to Sam. 

He knew. They all knew. Sam couldn’t breathe. Shaking his head, he backed away from them. “How….. how…….” It was too much for the youngest Winchester to handle, that they allknew what he’d let happen. Turning, he barely heard Dean scream his name before he ran out the door. 

“Get your brother!” John turned to the Sherriff and his deputies as Dean followed Sam outside. Deleting the video of Sam, he held out the phone. “You take this-a copy will get to the State Police before the end of the day in caseyou decide to protect those sick fucks. And I can promise you that if you try to cover this up they’ll never find any of those boys bodies.” Taking a step to stand less than a foot from the Sherriff, John drew his body up to his full height, glared into the man’s eyes, and spoke in a tone that sent tremors through the officer. “Kevin will be the first and he’ll die screaming.” 

Nodding, the Sherriff took the phone from John’s hand. 

Dean chased Sam across the parking lot. In a foot race, the boys were pretty evenly matched, Sam’s long legs usually carried him a bit faster than Dean, but Dean’s endurance was stronger and he usually caught up with Sam eventually. This time Sam only made it about halfway across the parking lot before the damage to his body caught up with him and he was doubled over, gasping painfully. 

Leaning down, Dean stared at Sam. “Sammy,” 

“Don’t.” Shaking his head, Sam backed away from his brother. “How? How did you find out?” 

“Doesn’t matter right now. I’m sorry. Jesus, I’m sorry.”

“ Don’t….. Dean, I can’t…..” 

The sight of his little brother falling to his knees almost broke Dean’s heart. Moving to him, Dean wrapped his arms around the shaking teen. At first Sam tried to pull away, but Dean refused to let him go and eventually felt the tension in the younger boy’s body release and hands gripped his shirt almost hard enough to rip it. 

“Listen to me, Sammy. You’re gonna be okay. You hear me? I’m gonna make sure of it.” 

“Dean?” John’s voice startled both boys, but Dean turned to look at him. 

“Get him in the car. We’re out of this god-forsaken fucking town.” 

Dean knew his father, and he knew that John Winchester was hanging on by a thread. The tension running through every muscle, the way he grit his teeth when he gave Dean the order. The way his eyes avoided his oldest’s before he got in the front seat of the Impala. What Dean didn’t know was how to explain that to his 15 year old brother. Sam stared at his father’s back with a look on his face that told Dean that he was seeing something different. He was seeing his father unable to even look at him. The younger boy’s eyes dropped to the ground and filled with tears. 

“Come on, let’s get you in the car.” Dean lifted his brother to his feet gently and led him to the backseat. 

Without a sound, Sam got in the car and leaned against the door across from Dean. Completely lost on what he should or shouldn’t do, Dean finally sighed and moved closer to his brother. “Sammy?” 

Responding to the quiet tone, Sam kept his voice low. “Yeah?” 

“We’re gonna be driving for a while. Come here.” Relief flooded the older brother when Sam didn’t flinch from the gentle hand guiding him to lie down across the seat. Once the tall frame was as comfortable as possible on the too short bench, Dean leaned his own head back and closed his eyes. His hand traced small circles on Sam’s back until they were both asleep. 

 

 


	5. Save Me

Save me  5/?  
Characters: Sam Dean John OC  
Pairing: none  
Teenchester Sam 15, Dean 19  
Rating: M language non-graphic violence

The voice mail from an unknown number had not been a priority for Dean, so it had been there for several hours. The instant Dean heard the familiar voice he stopped and sat down heavily.  
"Dean?.... It's Sam. I need some help..... I'm in jail."

Possible trigger-  non-graphic underage non/con object insertion 

Stopping the car, John turned to the back seat. Dean was literally wedged in the corner with Sam’s head on his lap. Both boys were sound asleep, and this afforded John a chance to really look at them. The matching bruises that they wore from their own father’s hand seemed to be a glaring sign screaming how bad of a father John Winchester was these days. What had happened to Sam- John’s mind couldn’t even form the words in his head but he knew that he should have realized something was really wrong. Dean had known, tried to tell him. But all he saw was Sam walking away from a fight that left six boys in the hospital with plenty of witnesses.

“Dad?” Dean’s whisper startled John. 

“There’s a hospital around the corner. We have to take Sammy.” 

“He won’t want to.” 

“Dean, you and I can treat a lot of injuries. But what those bastards did to him….” John’s voice cracked. “We can’t treat the internal injuries from that.” 

“I know, Dad. I didn’t say I didn’t agree. Just sayin’ Sammy won’t want to.” Sam stirred in Dean’s lap and the older boys’ hand slid through the long hair, comforting him. After he settled back down, Dean looked back at John. “He needs something to eat. I don’t think he’s had anything since…… Since it happened.” 

“You think he’ll eat?” 

“No. But we might be able to get one of those fruity things he likes in him.” Dean shrugged. “Those protein shake things.” 

“Good idea.” Again, John realized how much better Dean knew Sam than he did. “You’re going to have to convince him to talk to a doctor. I don’t think he’ll listen to much of anything I have to say right now.” 

“What’s the story? Gonna be a hard sell. All the bruises and the cracked rib-“  
  
“Cracked rib?” John’s voice rose a bit and Sam reacted. 

With almost a glare at his father, Dean ran his hand through Sam’s hair again and waited for the younger boy to stop shifting. “Yeah. I think it’s cracked. He’s got a bunch of bruises. Cops weren’t much better on him while they had him.” 

When the guilty hurt flashed through John’s eyes, Dean was almost sorry for saying it. But John’s hurt feelings didn’t compare to Sam’s physical well-being in Dean’s mind. “So what are we going to tell them?” 

After a few long moments of both men staring at the sleeping teen, John sighed and met Dean’s eyes. “We tell the truth. They can’t force Sam to give a statement or testify.” Another thought occurred to him. “Do you think he’ll want to?” 

Shaking his head, Dean looked away from John. “He didn’t even tell me what happened. No way he’s gonna want to tell cops about it.” 

Sam shifted and tried to straighten his legs. When they met with the resistance of the car door, he pushed harder and brought his arms up in front of him. Reaching for his brother’s hands, Dean tried to gently stop him, but the younger boy started to struggle in the seat. 

“Sammy. Come on, calm down.” Dean’s voice was low, not wanting to startle him out of the nightmare. Watching from the front seat, John realized there was nothing he could do. He barely heard Dean mutter “Shit” under his breath and waited to see what they older boy was going to do. 

“One more fucking thing he’s going to have nightmares about.” Dean was beginning to struggle in earnest with his brother. “Those sons of bitches!” 

“Stop. Get the fuck away from me.” The words formed more like slurred mumbles as Sam kicked the door again, his head starting to thrash against Dean. 

“Dad-“ Dean pointed. “Open the door before he-“ 

Before the sentence was complete, Sam’s foot lashed out and through the back window. 

“Shit.” Jumping from the car, John opened the back door and pushed Sam’s foot back before he could cut himself on the glass. 

The sound of the glass shattering woke the boy, and he pulled away from Dean, throwing a punch that his older brother was ready for and blocked easily. Dean tried to do it gently, but he still felt a stab of guilt when Sam hissed in pain and tried to move away. 

“Sammy!” 

Dean’s voice cut through whatever hold the nightmare still had on Sam and he stopped. 

“Dean?” 

“You’re okay. Just a nightmare.” Dean’s voice was soft and soothing again. 

Confused, the teen looked around and realized John was brushing broken glass off the seat. “I….” 

Finally feeling like he was able to do something, John pointed to Sam’s leg. “Let me make sure you don’t have glass in your jeans or sock.” 

“I’m fine.” 

“Sammy, you just kicked out a window-“ 

“I’m sorry.” With a quiet apology, Sam shifted away from John and back towards Dean. 

“Let him look.” Quiet, but firm, Dean’s comment was almost an order. 

Nodding, Sam allowed John to pull his leg up so the streetlight would illuminate any glass hidden in the dark fabric. Actually gritting his teeth at the fact that his younger son would only let him help after his older son told him to, John discarded the few pieces of safety glass he found. Satisfied, brushed the rest of the glass out of the car and sat on the back seat. “Sam,-“

“I know, I fucked up again.” Sam’s voice was almost a whisper. 

“Stop-“ John’s voice was harsher then he’d intended and the way his teenage son flinched from it had him almost giving up and leaving Dean to handle it. “You didn’t fuck up, Sammy.” 

“I broke the window-“ 

“Yeah, you did.” John actually smiled. “Hell of a kick, too. Those things don’t break easy.” 

Sam almost smiled back at him. 

“I know I told you that you fucked up. I didn’t know….” At a loss for words, John reached up and put his hand on the side of Sam’s head. “I didn’t know, Sammy.” 

When tears ran down his baby’s face, John felt tears in his own eyes. Pulling Sam to him, John wrapped his arm around the teen and held him as best he could with both of them wedged in the back seat. 

Sam buried his face in John’s jacket, crying harder. “I tried to stop them. I swear I did, Dad. I don’t know why I hit them with the stick.” 

“Because they deserved it, son.” Shaking his head, John ran one hand through Sam’s hair as he had seen Dean do earlier. “You were out numbered, hurt, but you showed them what happens when you piss off a Winchester.” His finger lifted Sam’s chin so he was eye to eye with his son. “They deserved every fucking thing you gave them and more. Do you understand me?” 

Surprised, Sam nodded. Before he jumped into the next subject, John briefly caught a flash of a smile from Dean. “We need to talk about something.” 

Sam tensed, but he didn’t interrupt. 

“We’re going to take you to the ER-“

“No.” Shaking his head, Sam pulled away and leaned back towards Dean. 

“Sam, your brother and I understand why you didn’t tell us you were hurt. But you are and you need to be treated.” 

“I’ll be fine. Don’t make me…..” 

“This isn’t an argument. Or a debate.” John’s voice rose. “We’re going to the ER and we’re going to tell the truth this time. No story.” 

“No.” Sam’s voice rose to match John’s. “It’s been days. I don’t need a doctor now.” 

“It’s been days because you didn’t tell anybody. Sam, this isn’t up for discussion.” Even though John understood where Sam was coming from, he just wanted Sam to listen to him and do what he was told for once. 

“Okay, moment over.” Dean wrapped his arm around Sam. “Don’t totally fuck it up with a fight. Dad take us to the hospital.” 

“But I-“ 

“Sammy.” One word from Dean and Sam stilled, waiting for his brother to finish. Again, John had to wonder when Dean had developed such a hold over his younger brother. As he moved to the front and started the car again, he could barely hear his older son talking. 

“Listen to me. I saw your clothes. And the towel.” Before the teen could pull away, Dean leaned closer until his chin was almost on Sam’s shoulder and spoke softly. “I told you I’d do anything to make this better. But you have to help me, here. We need to know, kiddo. You know it.” 

“I don’t want to.” The pleading in his voice broke both older Winchester’s hearts. 

“I know, Sammy. I know.” Afraid Sam would see the tears in his eyes, Dean turned slightly so he could actually pull Sam’s back into his chest and hold him. One hand drew those small circles on the younger bboy’s chest while the other was almost petting the long hair. “I know you don’t want to do this, and I wish to God you didn’t have to. You have to see a doctor and you have to let them examine you. We’ll play this any way you want to, but it has to be done.” 

Relaxing into Dean’s arms, Sam shifted gently to a more comfortable position. “What story do we give?” 

“No story, Sammy.” John’s voice was soft. “You have nothing to hide.” 

The hospital was crowded, and John had a hard time getting the triage nurses’ attention. Feeling his father’s tension, Sam turned to Dean. 

One look at the teen told Dean that his younger brother was seconds away from running. Instinctively, Dean’s hand reached out and gently gripped the back of the boy’s neck. 

“Sammy”, the older Winchester’s voice was a whisper. “you’re going to be okay.” 

Sam took a deep breath and leaned into his brother. 

“Sam?” A nurse reached down and put a wristband on Sam’s wrist. “Can you come with me?” 

Dean stood with him. 

“Just Sam for now.” Her voice was soft, but adamant. 

“Sammy?” Suddenly, Dean wasn’t sure his younger brother would want him there for this. 

“He’ll be fine. I’ll let you know when you can come back.” This time her tone conveyed that she was not going to allow Dean to accompany his brother. Dean tensed. 

“That’s up to Sam.” 

“Dean, it’s fine.” The last thing Sam wanted was for Dean to cause a scene. Slowly, the younger teen followed the nurse into a small exam room and took the gown she handed him. 

After he changed, the nurse returned with another woman. While the nurse checked Sam’s vitals, the other woman sat in a chair across from Sam and smiled. 

“My name is Tina, Sam. I’m a counselor with the police department.” 

“Cop?” Sam was ready to run. 

“Not in the sense you’re thinking. I don’t carry a gun and I don’t chase people. I spend almost all of my time here. When someone comes in that’s been hurt, I just talk to them and find out what happened.” 

The way she was trying too hard to make him feel comfortable set off alarms in Sam’s head. “My dad told you what happened. I don’t want to talk to the cops.” 

The two women exchanged glances that Sam didn’t understand, but made him nervous. 

Tina tried again. “We need to hear from you. We need to know exactly what happened.”

Shaking his head, the boy stared at the floor. “I can’t.” 

“Sam, honey, I know this is hard. But we’re trying to make sure you get everything you need to heal from this.” The nurse looked at Sam carefully, trying to decide how to best get the teen to speak to them. “If you’re afraid to talk to us, please say so. If whoever did this threatened you, or you aren’t comfortable, I know it can be hard if someone you trusted hurt you-“

“I barely knew them. I was the new kid and I didn’t fit in.” Sam’s voice cracked with emotion, but he forced himself to look up at the women. 

“It’s really important to tell the truth.” Tina’s voice was soft. 

“What does that mean?” 

“It means you don’t have to be afraid. If you don’t want to talk about your father or brother.” 

“Why would I-“ It came together in his mind and Sam felt like an idiot. Standing, he reached for his clothes. “You want me to say Dad lied and it wasn’t-“

“Sam, we’re trying to take care of you.” 

“No, you’re-“ His glare went to Tina. “That’s why you wouldn’t let Dean come with me.” He started to panic and their efforts to keep him in the room only made it worse. 

“You need to sit down, Sam.” 

“No! Leave me alone!” 

A man entered the room and Sam backed away so fast he literally slammed his own body against the wall. “DEAN!” 

Dean heard his name echo through the hallways. Exchanging a quick glance with his father, Dean headed towards his brother. “SAMMY!” 

The man moved back from Sam. “I’m Dr. Myers. What’s going on?” 

Hearing Dean’s voice calling his name, Sam called out to his brother again. 

The doctor was shoved out of the doorway from behind and the older Winchester crossed the room to his brother. As soon as Dean reached him, the younger boy turned into his arms, shaking and trying to not cry. 

“I’m here, Sammy. I’m here. You’re okay.” 

The familiar hands tracing circles on his back and sliding through his hair immediately calmed Sam and he pressed his head to his brother’s shoulder. While making sure to keep one hand on the shaking boy, Dean removed his leather jacket and put it on Sam. 

“Is this your idea of taking care of my son?” John’s voice was quiet, but clearly told the hospital staff he was about to take his boy and leave. 

For a few moments no one spoke. Every eye watched Dean lead Sam to a chair, whispering in the younger boy’s ear the entire time. No one could hear Dean or the younger boy’s replies. 

“I’m Dr. Myers. I can assure you that these women are only interested in your son’s welfare.”

“Dad?” John turned to Dean “They didn’t believe it happened at school.” 

“What does that mean?” John directed his question to the doctor, but Tina answered. 

“Mr. Winchester, when a teen comes in that has been assaulted, our first priority is to determine if there is a continuing threat.” 

“I didn’t bring Sam here to be grilled. I brought himhere because he’s hurt and he needs a doctor.” 

“That’s why I’m here.” Dr. Myers approached the brothers. “No more questions, Sam. I need to examine you and find out how badly you’ve been hurt. That okay?”

Forehead still on Dean’s shoulder, Sam shook his head. Leaning closer, Dean whispered in his brother’s ear. After a few tense moments, Dean finally looked up and nodded at the doctor. 

“I’m going to need the nurse to stay. With your permission,” Dr. Meyers addressed John. “I’d like to give Sam a shot of Demerol to make this a bit easier and less painful for him.” 

All three Winchesters reacted. Sam’s body tensed and pressed closer to Dean, who closed his eyes and gripped his brother tighter. 

The full implications of what the doctor was about to do to his baby hit John. “Anything you can do to help him.” 

Dr. Meyers kept his voice low and addressed Sam. “We’ll give the shot a few minutes to take effect before we get started. I have to have the nurse present, but it’s entirely up to you who else is in the room with you.” 

Even as Sam whispered into Dean’s shoulder, the older boy’s emotions were obvious. To witness what was going to amount to a second rape of his baby brother wasn’t something Dean was sure he could do. Even as he bit his lip and leaned chin against Sam’s head, his eyes sought his father’s. John met his oldest son’s tear filled eyes for a moment before dropping. 

John felt the other adults’ eyes in the room and knew they were all wondering why he was standing back and watching the emotional devastation on both of his sons and not taking care of his youngest himself. He decided it was none of their business. If John Winchester knew nothing else in the world, he knew his boys. Even if Sam would allow his father to comfort him, which John knew he wouldn’t, Dean would never leave the room when Sam needed him. No matter how much it hurt Dean, he would see this through and be whatever his younger brother needed. 

Determined to at least put up a show of support for his sons, John left the room. 

“Mr. Winchester?” Tina followed him. “I hope you understand we have to be sure when it comes to an injured child.” 

“Look,” Sighing, John leaned against the wall as his strength left him. “I know a lot of the time it does turn out to be the kid’s family. But if you had bothered to ask me I could have told you where, when, and who was involved. You didn’t have to put my son through that.” 

“If you want to file a police report-“

“I don’t.” John shook his head. “Wasn’t even in this town. Cops are already involved where it did happen. All I wanted was to get my son as far away from them as possible.” 

“They shouldn’t get away with it-“  
“They won’t!” His voice rising, John stepped closer to Tina. “Sam wasn’t the only one. And I made damn sure the proof got where it needed to be. It’s really not your business, but Sam doesn’t want to be a part of it. You think he really wants to tell anyone what happened? He didn’t even tell his brother!” Turning, John walked away. 

It was almost two hours later when they appeared. Dean walked alongside Sam’s wheelchair, holding his hand tightly. Even with the Demerol, the younger teen was still crying, and the older brother was doing everything he could to keep himself from breaking down. Without a word, Dean led the nurse to the Impala and climbed in the back, pulling Sam’s back to his chest and wrapping his arms around his brother. 

One look told John that he needed to just leave them alone for a while. 


	6. Save Me

Save me  6/?  
Characters: Sam Dean John OC  
Pairing: none  
Teenchester Sam 15, Dean 19  
Rating: M language non-graphic violence

The voice mail from an unknown number had not been a priority for Dean, so it had been there for several hours. The instant Dean heard the familiar voice he stopped and sat down heavily.  
"Dean?.... It's Sam. I need some help..... I'm in jail."

Possible trigger--graphic underage non/con object insertion

 

The trip was silent, except for the occasional snuffles and the periodic hitch of breath from both brothers. In the mirror, John could see Dean occasionally whisper in Sam’s ear, but he couldn’t make out anything that was being said.

“You did great, Sammy. Just relax, let the drugs work.” Dean was grateful his brother couldn’t see his face. The tears kept coming, no matter how hard he willed them to stop. The Demerol had made Sam sleepy, but it didn’t prevent him from begging the doctor to stop while tears ran down his face. It took everything in Dean to not follow John out into the hallway to escape the entire scene.

Feeling a few stray tears on his shoulder, Sam was aware the he was the cause of his brother’s pain. He knew what staying had done to Dean, but he couldn’t bring himself to tell him to leave. As much as Sam hated to admit it, he never would have been able to stay on the table if Dean hadn’t held his hand.  The thought that he had made his brother hold his hand while the doctor……. Taking a deep breath, Sam realized how pathetic he’d become. The constant reassuring whispers in his ear sounded strained and broken. It only made Sam feel worse. He waited until John got out of the car at the motel to get a room.

“How can you…….” Sam’s voice trailed off and something in his voice told his older brother that there was something important there he needed to get to.

“How can I what?”

When Sam didn’t answer, Dean pulled him in tighter. “How can I what, Sammy?”

Returning to the car, John pulled into a parking space at a motel and got out. Dean didn’t let Sam move. His hand felt Sam’s chest jumping from the hitches in his breathing as he struggled to not cry.  
“What?”

Pulling away to sit up suddenly, Sam couldn’t mask the actual hiss of air through his teeth from the pain. “How can you even stand to look at me?”

“What does that mean?” Only able to see the outline of Sam’s face in the dark, Dean moved closer to him. “What kind of question is that?”

“After what….. I can’t stand to even look in a mirror, Dean. They…… I can’t…. God, I just…… After what I let them do to me, how-“

“That’s enough.” Dean’s voice rose and he gripped Sam’s shoulder. “You didn’t LET them do a god damned thing to you, you hear me? Six of them, Sammy. Six of them jumped you from behind. They couldn’t even face you in a fair fight so they tried to knock you out first. Those fuckers did this and don’t you for one minute take the blame away from them!”

Not even trying to hide the desperation in his voice for his little brother to be okay, Dean hoped that Sam would listen.

Nodding, Sam seemed to understand what Dean was trying to say. He wiped his eyes and sighed. “I’m trying, Dean. I’m really trying.”

“I know, Sammy.”

Just as Dean’s hand reached Sam’s shoulder, the boy tensed before turning to him. “How did you know?”

 “What?” Dean realized he had just completely fucked up and his mind raced for a way to end the conversation.

John opened the back door and leaned in to see if Sam needed help getting out. The look on his son’s faces stopped him and he watched them.

“How did you know they hit me over the head first? How did you find out?” Sam turned to almost face Dean.

“Sammy, please, let’s get inside, get some rest, then I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”

Just how badly Dean did not want to talk about it told Sam it was probably something he didn’t want to know. But he did want to know. “No, Dean. Tell me now. I know none of those assholes confessed. How did you know?”

“They taped it, Sam.” John decided that he would be the one to do this. It was about the only thing he could do for either of his sons at the moment, knowing that Sam wouldn’t stop until one of them answered.  “One of them recorded what they did on a cell phone and their girlfriend gave it to us.”

The realization crossed Sam’s face and he scrambled to get out of the car past John. Using his body, John blocked Sam. “Stop.”

Openly crying, Sam tried to push his father out of the way, but John held onto the car and refused to let his son run away. “Sammy, you need to calm down.”

Dean recognized the look on his younger brother’s face. “Dad, he’s gonna be sick.”

Reaching for Sam, John held the teen while he did little more than dry heave next to the Impala. Even as his body shook in John’s arms, he tried to pull away. When Dean came around the back, John shook his   head to keep the older boy back for a moment. “Sammy, listen to me. Stop. You need to calm down,  son. It happened. It’s over. Your brother and I would do anything to have protected you from it, but we couldn’t.”

Sam continued to fight to get away, actually throwing a few sloppy punches in a panic to escape the hands that were holding him.

Ignoring the blows, John wrapped his arms around his son as tightly as he dared with the injuries he knew Sam had sustained. A few minutes passed and Sam’s energy began to wane. Finally John pulled Sam up and leaned his face next to the boy’s ear. “Listen to me. Sammy. You gotta help me, here, kiddo. You’re scaring your brother. You have to calm down for Dean’s sake, okay?”

“Dad.”

John met Dean’s eyes and stopped the protest from going any further. He knew Dean didn’t want to be used like that, but it was the only way John could think of to get through to Sam.

It worked. Sam’s head snapped up and his eyes met with his brother’s. Nodding to Dean, John released Sam so that he could stand up.

Sighing, John stood and leaned against the car watching his boys. Dean put his arm around Sam’s shoulders and the younger boy actually folded into his brother as they walked across the parking lot together.

 

 

John kicked the door gently and Dean opened it. Taking one of the three bags John was juggling, Dean moved to the table. His mouth actually watered at the sight of the chinese takeout in the bag. Soda, beer, and some berry concoction from the local fruit juice stand came out of the bag in John’s hand. “Sammy would love it, Dad. But he’s been out since his head hit the pillow.”

“Get some ice, we’ll keep it cold for him. The soup’s for him, too.”

As Dean dug into his container, John handed him a beer. “You’ve had a rough, one, Dean.”

“Sam’s had it worse.”

Sighing, John gripped Dean’s shoulder gently. “I know what you did for him, son. And I know how much it took for you to stay with him.”  
“Had to. Sammy needed me.” Dean’s voice told John that it never even occurred to him to not stay with his younger brother. “Doctor said his cracked rib is healing fine, nothing else is broken, and……” He faltered for a moment, took a deep breath, and continued. “He’s healing, but he needed a dozen or so stitches… ya know…. Inside.” Tears came again, but Dean willed himself to continue. “Gave him some cream to use. No solid foods for about another week. I have prescriptions for some other medications that he has to take. Pain killers.” Taking a sip of his beer, he forced his eyes to meet his father’s. “Not savin’ them for bad hunt injuries, Dad. He’s gonna take them if he needs them.”

“I know. Give me the ‘scripts. I’ll fill them.”  He reached for the slips of paper in his son’s hand.

“Doc gave me a card for a therapist, too. Said Sammy might need to talk about it.”

“What do you think?” John trusted Dean’s appraisal of Sam’s condition better than any of them.

Dean was shocked. He’d expected John to take the card and throw it right in the nearest trash bag. But his father had asked a question and he expected an answer. “Sammy usually talks about everything. But he didn’t even want me to know about this. So…. Dad…… I just don’t know.” Everything caught up to Dean at once and his voice cracked with emotion. “He’s so hurt. If they had just kicked his ass, that would be one thing. I could fix that. But what they did…….” As his voice trailed off, tears ran down his cheeks. Angrily, he swiped them off his face. “Sorry.”

“We’re going to have to get moving again, Dean. I can give Sammy a couple of days, but nobody’s been able to get to the hunt I was looking into before all this.” John had no idea how to deal with Dean’s emotions. So he reverted to what he did know. Hunting.

Nodding, Dean glanced at his sleeping brother. “You can go, Dad. I can handle this.”

“Werewolf, Dean. Two man  job.” John believed separating Dean from the situation would help his oldest. And without Dean to hold his hand Sam would be forced to move past what had happened. “I was thinking maybe we can drop Sam at Bobby’s or Jim’s and we can take care of it. Two weeks before the next full moon and-“

“No.” It came out sharper then Dean intended, but he met John’s eyes.

“I need you on this one, Dean. I understand Sam can’t stay alone right now-“  

“Get Caleb. I’m not leaving Sammy.”

“I’m not asking.”

Standing, Dean threw his fork on the table. “Did you hear one word he said in the car? It’s bad enough what he’s going to think when YOU dump him to go hunt. I’m not going to leave him.” The struggle to keep his voice down left him shaking.

“This is NOT a discussion, Dean.” John’s voice rose. “We need to be ready to take this thing down in two weeks.”

Grabbing a beer, Dean left the room. The second the door closed behind him, Sam’s eyes opened, searching for his brother.

 

Not realizing that Sam had opened his eyes and was watching him, John leaned back in his chair and sighed. John decided to give his older son time to rethink the options. He was confident that Dean would come through and back him up on the hunt. Picking up the phone, he dialed Bobby’s number.

“Bobby. It’s John.”

Sam couldn’t hear what Bobby said, but he didn’t want John to know he was awake.

“Yeah. Sam ran into some trouble at his last school.”

A pause.

“Dean and I are going to head over to a werewolf about four hours from you. You don’t mind, Sam’s just not up to being on his own right now.”

Sam all but stopped breathing. Dean was going to drop him at Bobby’s and leave. Tears threatened, but the last thing he wanted was his father’s attention. He could understand Dean’s desire to get away from him, but the he could feel the panic rising at the thought.

“Yeah, he should be able to get around by the time we get there. Probably be about 4 or 5 days. I’ll explain everything when we get there.”

They were going to tell Bobby. Everything. Unable to stop himself, Sam started to cry. At first he managed to stay quiet, a few tears sliding down his cheek. But the more his mind raced, the more he lost control of his breathing and finally his rib began to protest.

 

 

“I’ll call you back when we’re close.” Hanging up the phone, John’s eyes drifted to Sam. “Hey, son.” Reaching for the shake, he moved to the bed. “Dean said you like these.”

Slowly, Sam moved to sit up. When his father put pillows behind him, he relaxed back into them. “Thanks, Dad.” He realized how thirsty he was the instant the cold drink hit his throat. Turning his body as much as he could, Sam struggled to stop the seemingly endless flow of tears. But he couldn’t stop the hiss of pain that slipped through his lips.

At a complete loss for anything to say to Sam, John sat on the other bed and watched him. “Got you some soup, too.”

Shaking his head, Sam continued to drink.

“You need to eat some of the soup, Sammy.”

“Not hungry. Where’s Dean?” Not trusting his voice, Sam barely whispered to his father.

“Outside. Getting some air.” Unable to find a way to even talk to his son, John stood. “Going to get your meds. Dean will be back in a minute.” _As soon as I leave_ went through John’s mind.

The door opened, and John couldn’t help a feeling of relief that Dean was there to deal with Sam, then anger at himself for being unable to deal with Sam.

“Hey, Sammy.” Dean’s voice was soft and he moved quickly across the room to sit next to Sam. “Gonna brain freeze, there, kiddo.” Reaching for the soup, Dean gently took the shake. “Here. Some of this first, then more of the shake. Okay?”

“Not hungry, Dean.”

“Wasn’t a question. Come on. Some of the soup.”

Nodding,  Sam accepted the container and slowly ate the soup.  Dean sat silently beside him, once again rubbing small circles on his younger brother’s back.

Once again, John was reminded how much more Dean’s words meant to Sam then his. Standing, he realized that the only thing his boys saw was each other.

“I’ll be back.” Waving the scripts, John left.

Sam wanted to ask Dean about being dumped at Bobby’s, but he was afraid of the answer. He knew it wasn’t fair to his brother, but the thought of Dean leaving him left him unable to breath and crying again. Feeling Dean’s arm around his shoulders, the younger boy sniffed once before handing the soup over and reaching for his shake.

“We’ll work on getting the rest of it in you later. Finish this and when Dad gets back I’ll find you another one.”

Sam finished the shake and laid back down, unable to hide from Dean how sore his body was. “Dad will be back in a few with your meds.”

Closing his eyes, Sam resisted telling his brother that the small circles on his back made him feel better than any drugs ever could.

 

 

 

John’s intention when he dropped off the prescriptions was to go get a quick drink before returning to pick them up. But one drink turned into two, then a shot, and pretty soon his mind went back to what had happened to his son. For all the research, all the training, all the precautions against the supernatural he had done, in the end it had been humans that had done the damage to his son. And he hadn’t been able to do a God-Damned thing to prevent it or even help his boy. Either of them, the toll on Dean was obvious to John as well. He couldn’t step in and be the father they both needed, but he sure as hell could make sure those humans (that really weren’t, in John’s opinion) paid for what they had done.

Dropping a few bills on the table, John left. Prescriptions forgotten, John drove back to the town where it had all started.

 

 

 

After an hour had passed, Dean began to wonder where John was with Sam’s meds. The next time the boy woke, he’d definitely need them. He tried John’s cell, but the voicemail told him that John wasn’t going to talk to him. After a few minutes, his phone chirped a signal that a text had been received.

 

_‘Scripts at the drugstore 4 blocks SE of location-  Impala in parking lot_

Nearly throwing his phone, Dean looked at Sam. Dad obviously wasn’t coming back anytime soon, and Sammy needed his meds. That didn’t mean Dean wanted to leave his sleeping brother. Fifteen minutes, if he was lucky. Would Sam sleep another fifteen minutes or would he wake up to an empty room? Making a decision, Dean left a note on the nightstand next to Sam and left.

As usual, Winchester luck held firm. Dean returned to find Sam’s bed empty. A moment of panic calmed when he heard the shower running.

“Sam?”

No  answer.

“Sammy? You okay?” Slowly, the older boy opened the door and moved to the shower curtain. The water was still so hot steam poured out, which meant that he hadn’t been in long. But the sight of his little brother, kneeling in the tub, the hot water leaving his skin red still stopped Dean’s heart.

“Sammy, come on.” Reaching up, Dean made the water a bit cooler. Not cold, but it would stop actually scalding his brother’s body. He kept his voice low, not knowing which would be the best way to stop the crying boy.

Sam mumbled and Dean leaned closer to him. “Sammy?”

“Can’t get clean.” Shaking his head, Sam forced himself to meet his brother’s eyes. “Don’t matter what I do.”

“Shit.” Dean mumbled under his breath and turned the water off. “Enough. Come on.” He wrapped a towel around Sam and led him out of the tub. “Got your ‘scripts. You ready for some more pain meds?”

Sam nodded.

“What about…… it’s time………” Asking his brother if he was ready for the cream the doctor had given them was the last thing in this life Dean wanted to be doing.

“I can do it.”

“Sam…… look, I can take you back to the hospital if you’re not comfortable with me, but…… jesus, the doctor said it was really important to get it right and you can’t……..”

“I’m going to have to, Dean. I can’t see Bobby offering…… that.” His voice broke with emotion and he angrily wiped tears away.

“Bobby?” A large hand hit the wall. “Son of a bitch- I can’t fucking believe he actually-“ Sam flinched and actually began to shake. Lowering his voice, Dean sighed. “I am NOT going to leave you at Bobby’s, Sammy.”

“I heard Dad.”

“I don’t care what you heard. I can’t say Bobby’s is a bad idea once you’re healed enough to travel. But I’m not going to dump you there, Sammy. Promise.”

The hazel eyes that met his were so full of hope that Dean almost started to cry again.

“Really?”

“Really.”

Nodding, Sam watched Dean empty the bag of prescriptions and sighed. His eyes lowered to the floor. “Can you do it?”

Dean barely heard Sam’s whisper but he turned. Almost feeling the shame and humiliation radiating off his younger brother, he kneeled down and gently turned Sam’s head so their eyes met. “It’s an injury, Sammy. It has to be treated like any other injury. Stiches and antiseptic with some pain killer thrown in. Same drill as always.”

“Oh, yeah. Just like any other-“ Sam’s voice broke and he couldn’t finish the sentence.

Sighing, Dean wrapped his arms around his brother. “You haven’t done anything wrong and I wish to God you would stop feeling like you did, baby boy.”

 

 

 

The sun was just coming up when Dean heard the familiar sound of John’s truck in the parking lot. Opening the door, he spared one last glance at his sleeping brother before exiting the room. “See you went back for the truck.”

“Among other things.” John offered a cup of coffee to his oldest son.

“Other things,” Taking a sip, Dean leaned against the truck. “Other things that might include taking care of some unfinished business?”

“I…. confiscated a few cell phones-“

“They still had their fucking cell phones? Guess the Sheriff didn’t believe you’d check up on them?”

“It will be a lot easier to watch them now. All back in one place.”

Dean didn’t even have to ask his father to know that the one place they were all back in was the hospital.

“Of course, their cell phones are now in a box at the State Trooper’s office the next town opposite of our direction. Need to get those other videos to them in an untraceable way.”

After sharing a small laugh, Dean grew serious. “How did you not kill them? All I could think about when I realized where you were headed was how slowly they needed to die.”

“You know your brother, Son. If by some chance Sammy found out I’d killed even one of them?”

Neither of them finished that thought out loud. Even after everything, Sam would feel guilty if any of them had been killed over him.

“I’ll keep tabs, but I think this will do it.” John sighed. “Now we just work on getting Sam back on his feet.”

“Why don’t you work on getting some rest? I’ll go get you a room.” Dean didn’t want to discuss how getting Sam on his feet physically was only going to be part of the battle this time. It would only lead to another fight regarding the werewolf hunt.

“Not up to sharing a room with the old man?” John started to tease, but Dean wasn’t in the mood.

“Sam’s not sleeping much – couple hours after his meds. And the….. there’s some things he has to do that……. It’s hard enough for him with me there, and I have to help him.”

Realizing what Dean was talking about sobered John. “I brought you a couple breakfast burritos and a couple more of those shakes for Sammy. You go ahead and take those in. I’ll get a room and see if I can’t catch a few hours of sleep.”

 


	7. Save Me 7/7

Finally the end.... Chuck was 100% right about how hard endings are. Thanks for sticking with it.

 

Save me 7/7  
Characters: Sam Dean John OC  
Pairing: none  
Teenchester Sam 15, Dean 19  
Rating: M language non-graphic violence

The voice mail from an unknown number had not been a priority for Dean, so it had been there for several hours. The instant Dean heard the familiar voice he stopped and sat down heavily.  
"Dean?.... It's Sam. I need some help..... I'm in jail."

Possible trigger-  non-graphic underage non/con object insertion

 

 

John entered Bobby’s living room and stopped when he saw Caleb sitting on the sofa.  
“Hey, John. Good to see you.”  
Immediately, John knew that Dean and or Bobby were responsible for the man in front of him being there. “You too, Caleb, but I’m not sure why you’re here. Job’s only a two man job.”  
“And that’s why I’m here. I’m going with you. Dean’s staying here and helping Sam. I’m going to help you take care of whatever this hunt is.” Caleb kept his voice calm. Dean had called him from a gas station and in thirty seconds or less laid out the basics of the situation for him. He didn’t know the whole story, but if Dean was ready to ‘go to the mat’- in his own words- for this one, Sammy sure as hell must need his brother. And Caleb was there to make sure that’s what Sammy got.  
“Dean!” John’s voice echoed through Bobby’s house. “Front and center!”  
It took Dean a bit longer than normal, but John knew he’d all but carried a drugged Sam up the stairs and was getting him situated. Wasn’t too long before Dean appeared at the bottom of the stairs, followed closely by Bobby.  
“You want to explain?”  
“Caleb’s going on the hunt. I’m staying here with Sammy.” As he approached John, Bobby actually stepped beside the boy, hoping he wouldn’t have to intervene, but not trusting the oldest Winchester’s temper.  
“That wasn’t the plan.”  
“I know, Dad. But you need to understand-“  
“I understand that you thought if you got Bobby and Caleb to back you up you’d get away with disobeying a direct order.” John’s voice was low, but his anger was unmistakable.  
“John-“ Caleb started to speak, but John ignored him.  
“Speak up, Dean. I want to know when you decided you knew better than I do-“  
“Where Sam is concerned, I do, Dad.” Dean’s eyes met John and though they were filled with apprehension his gaze didn’t waver. “I’ve always looked after him, just like YOU tell me to.” His shoulders shrugged slightly. “That’s all I’m doing now.”  
“YOU BABY HIM!” John’s voice echoed through the house. “Last time I checked, I was his father, and I’m telling you to stand down and pack up. He’s old enough to understand our priorities and deal with it!”  
Sam’s eyes snapped open at the sound and he knew it was his father’s voice carrying up the stairs. Unable to hear anything else, Sam forced his sore body to move. Making his way to the top of the stairs, he stayed silent.  
Bobby and Caleb looked at each other, both unsure where this was going.  
All three men realized that Dean had been planning what he was going to say. There was none of the typical Dean Winchester temper, no sarcasm, no cocky attitude that was normally found in the boy in front of them. His voice was calm, shoulders square, and his eyes stayed focused on John’s.  
The teen has picked this battle, and he wasn’t going to lose it.  
“He’s 15, Dad. You and I both forget that sometimes. I give him every training session you hand out. I make sure he gets every page of Latin you need memorized. I smack him down when he fucks up. I keep him in line when he’s in a school with more drug dealers then teachers. I handle parent teacher shit at his school, I handle the assholes that threaten to call CPS on us because you’re not around. I’m the one that wakes him up when he’s having nightmares, I’m the one that puts ice on the sprains and stitches up the cuts. So when he’s hurt worse than he’s ever been, I’m going to be here for him.” Dean’s voice steadily rose, but he kept the words slow and calm.  
Tears formed in Sam’s eyes. Dean had never stood up to John, never talked back, never questioned orders. So the scene playing out below meant everything to Sam because the first time Dean ever went against everything he’d always lived by was for him.  
For possibly the first time in years, John stopped and took a step back. He couldn’t contradict one thing Dean had said, and everyone in the room knew it. It had struck him numerous times over the last few days how much more influence Dean had over Sam then he did. How much Sam turned to his brother instead of his father.  
“You asked me, Dad.” Dean’s voice was quiet.  
“What?”  
“You asked me what I thought was best for him. So you have to think I know, right?” Dean “I understand our priorities. I get the family business. But Sammy is family, Dad. What the fuck is the point of anything we do if we forget that? If I hadn’t forgotten that, he wouldn’t have spent two days in jail cell with a concussion and internal bleeding.” The guilt practically radiated off the younger Winchester, and as soon as the same emotion crossed John’s face, everyone knew the battle was over.  
Caleb stepped forward. “I’m ready to leave, John. We can go as soon as you’re ready.”  
As soon as John’s head slightly nodded, Dean started moving. “Got silver bullets made up and ready. I’ll go get another count and stack up the weapons for you. Caleb, let’s get your shit into Dad’s truck.”  
All business again, John followed the two younger men out the door.  
Bobby sighed. He and Caleb had been afraid it was going to be a much harder battle to get John to leave Dean behind. Something had happened to the boy, and Dean hadn’t been able to fill him in yet. But Bobby could tell from the scene that just played out that it was bad.

 

It was another day before Sam would venture downstairs. Bobby had returned from town with milkshakes from a shop that both boys had loved since they were little. Dean had told Bobby everything, but only after Sam had agreed that the older hunter deserved to know why they were both camped out on his doorstep.  
Taking his shake, Sam sat on the sofa so close to Dean their legs were almost touching. Bobby met the younger boys’ stare evenly, not giving him a hint of whatever he seemed to be looking for. Everything in him wanted to ask Sam how he felt, but he didn’t want to make him any more uncomfortable then he already seemed to be.  
“Thanks, Bobby.” Dean smiled. “I was hoping for a beer, but I guess that’s for after the kid goes to sleep.” His shoulder bumped his brother’s gently.  
Knowing what Dean was doing, Sam let him know he appreciated the effort. “Jerk.”  
“Bitch.”  
The drank their shakes in silence for a few minutes.  
“I bet you forgot, Sam. We talked about that text for binding spells and banishing rituals? I finally got my hands on it.”  
Sam stopped mid slurp. “Really?”  
“Yep. Right up your alley. Lots of latin and I swear maybe a few sumarian phrases thrown in.” Bobby knew he had the young hunter. “Needs translating.”  
For the first time since his attack, Sam’s eyes literally lit up. “When can I start?”  
As the two stood and moved to Bobby’s desk, Dean made a mental note to thank Bobby for throwing something at Sam that he A. loved, and B. made him stop thinking about what happened to him every second of the day.  
Seeing his brother leaning casually against the desk staring at the book in Bobby’s hand, Dean realized that bringing him here was the best idea their father had offered, even if the original intention was to drag Dean away from him. He smiled to himself and stood. “As interesting as this is, I think I’m going to head outside and see if there’s anything Bobby can’t get running that I can show him how it’s done.”  
“Blue Nova in the garage, Mr. Know-it-all. See if YOU can figure it out.” Bobby’s tone was gruff, but he had no doubt that Dean would have it running in a few days, if that long.  
For several moments, Dean stood just of Sam’s sight. Yes, he was only headed out to the garage, but this was the first time Dean had actually left Sam that the younger boy didn’t want to follow him. Switching out his shake for a beer, Dean made it to the door and took one last glance back at his brother. His nightmares weren’t going to go away overnight, and the fact that he didn’t want Dean far from him was going to take some time, but Dean knew he was definitely on his way to getting better.


End file.
